The glasses you peer over have lenses thick but entice the people you want to discover and do not change the fact you can stare into their souls.
Retrieve their hardships and feel them as your own.
Your words flow with truth even when truth is something you haven't been given opportunity to ever know.
There is beauty in a tortured soul and from that thrives like vines with tangled mind and suddenly you have managed to gain some mental control.
Auras of green yellow and pink like changing leaves that fall only when your internal seasons have to release the memories burst like a gust of wind craving to be exposed.
But this, my giving tree, is the beauty I need you so see and not dispose.
That when you write it's like planting an impact in someone's mind and allowing it to grow.
Smoke of cowboys killers and vices of late night talks and wonderful company. Have honestly helped me create the person I can allow myself to be.
The saddest thing I have seen was when you sealed that envelope. Put it in that mailbox and we drove down the road. Leaving behind your past pain from years of hindered hope.
As your story on your shoulder says you are always a free soul. And helped me discover the meaning of hope. And I want you to know how much you mean to me. That together we bind through our ideas of humanity.
You thought me to tap into my darkest through rhythmic repetitive jabs at my temples. And revived the only person I didn't know I could resemble.
So this family tree your now apart of can only be determined improved. And my sister is how now I'll always think of you.
Emily A. Grande
Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 1:56 AM UTC
Where would I not follow you, friend?
Show me a depth of Hell to which your soul hasn't plunged,
the bottom of the ocean has known your touch,
the sky waiting for you to emerge
once again like a little mermaid
The Fall seems to follow each Summer,
skin marred with freckles like the lips
of the sun were planting fiery kisses on your shoulder blades
You who know triumph like Ali in a ten round match that lasted 45,
fists bloodied and raised over head, teeth knocked in,
still standing
You who can bring a grown man to his knees, but choose instead to lift him up, like you lift me up
You who know the theory that connects all our atoms to those inside a clock, one whose hand somehow pointed you to me,
like the needle in a compass redirects us
An imprint, resembling something like a fossil, left on the heart of those you have loved
People cling to you like they already know how good you are before you're gone
Surely I would follow you, whose steps sound like a melody, your voice like a song that rings in my ears,
a siren call to end a lifelong reverie,
and which sounds, unmistakably, like home
Oct 3, 2015
Oct 3, 2015 at 9:54 PM UTC
Unapologetic and occasionally messy, we enter into the room
and the parts of each person suddenly click
We're the glue that's bonded tightly
and on every full moon you can hear us howl
Wild yet refined, paradoxes found in the world we live in
We spread our wings and thunder booms,
gusts of wind touching all in their paths
Taking the road we made for ourselves
Trampling the ground underfoot
This land is marked as free
Our love extends state lines, mountains, and oceans
Messages sent in bottles still seem to always be reached
Souls can sense when another shares their parts
We take what we want, but never too much
(though show me a meaning of the word that sticks)
Perceptions of the world stem from validation
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 1:25 AM UTC
I've heard perception is everything
Though depth was never really mine
Surface life of a girl dragged under
Seeped in irony, fall in line
Maybe my reality is a compromise
(Though I **** sure never will)
A necessary concession to get through this moment
Every new second brings new things to feel
Appearances are the most convincing
Which emotions do you fake?
Waking life can't really be so nightmarish
**** this give and take
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 2:27 PM UTC
His spit tastes like salvation
I finally discovered the power one finds in a **** good kiss
Body hanging above mine, suspended on arms into which I collapse
Skin cells meet in a chemical reaction that explodes,
Leaving me breathless and gasping
Chest heaving, rising
Christ rose three days later, but the sweat that fell from his brow as he hung on the cross never stung my eyes like His does
I swear He speaks in parables like you, Lord
He even baptized me in His holy water.
I lace my fingers between His and whisper prayers every night,
But He never hears them.
His love pours out on me as if the Great Flood were upon us once more,
And we sneak behind the confession booth to ****
I say ten Hail Marys as I'm down on my knees.
The Bible tells us love is the greatest of all.
I offer Him my body, like Christ did.
He knocks and my door flies open.
He seeks me out and I am found.
He asks me to give him my all and he receives me.
And in this joining heaven is found.
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 1:44 PM UTC
The steps you took to my heart sadly resemble the tracks on your arms you tried to hide from sight,
and I told myself with patience I could surround you with light and we'd live in darkness no more
I've learned circumstances won't change just because love means they should,
and you won't stop killing yourself though you swore to yourself you could.
Please know I can't be there to see the end of it
So convince me once more to call you mine
I've never belonged to anyone, yet when I hear you cry "I need you," I begin to cross that line.
Let's see how far I get this time.
Stop living like you're already dead;
I promise nothing's as bad as gone.
Love yourself and then me, I'll be there as long as I can.
You're in and out and always in my head
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 12:37 AM UTC
I lost my mind two days after you left
And I just now got it back
But you'll never hear a word of this
We're a runaway train jumping the track
The truth is I may have what you need
And I wanted to carry your past
But my heart has never been wired that way
Marked from the start, we weren't meant to last
Callused hands always left me raw
Your parts rubbing mine to the bone
An exposure too real to handle
I'm just better when I'm alone
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 12:55 AM UTC
I carry these stones with me for when decisions are harder to make,
the backs of them have long since been smoothed down by worry,
my fingertips taking away the pieces of Earth years of pressure created.
Pressure created me.
I was raised beneath a roof full of fractures,
and sometimes sunlight poured in,
but mostly rain did.
Puddles all around because the holes we patched never stayed fixed for very long.
So can you tell me who I am if what you did to me gave me life?
If all my broken parts were never whole to start then there is no fault.
But my life is built on fault lines,
shifting bits of Earth powerful enough to leave me in ruins just by moving.
They say Rome took longer than a day to build,
but I heard it crumbled in seconds.
May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 3:43 PM UTC
You look me up and down and whisper
"you're perfect."
It takes all the strength I have not to roll my eyes.
Tell me how many times you've had me all figured out,
only to then learn you didn't know me at all.
You ask how my day went,
but never wanted to know how many hearts that I've broken (13),
or whether or not I smiled to myself as I heard them snap (usually),
never pausing for a second to glance back
Don't say that I'm beautiful when you've never spared a look at the ugliness inside me.
You tell me I complete you.
But what if I've always been whole on my own?
Will our love still be enchanting and magic once you've discovered I'm the Wicked Witch?
Catching my eye in a crowded room and all you expect of me is mirrored back.
Faking shy, my gaze lowers.
For love has always left me breathless.
But in the suffocating style, at best
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 9:11 PM UTC
They taught her
Not to believe
The sweet nothings
Boys would tell her.
"I would do anything for you."
"You mean the world to me!"
"Oh, darling, I love you so much."
For they were all lies.
Little did they know
That she, too,
Would never believe those lies.
In fact,
She was the one
Who told them.
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 9:00 PM UTC